


Beyond Repair

by belial



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Rimming, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 08:30:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belial/pseuds/belial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim does something more reckless than usual, and Sebastian’s tight control snaps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Repair

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This, like all of my other fics, is completely FALSE. Sherlock is property of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the TV series is property of the BBC.  
> Spoilers/Warnings: None for the show. Death of original characters (non-graphic). Spanking/bloodplay. Naughty Jim…

It’s not like Jim’s never done anything reckless before, never thrown himself into the melee without concern for his own safety. Life would be boring otherwise. Ordinary. Dull.

It is, however, the first time he’s done anything justifiably life-threatening since he acquired a six foot, three inch, eighty kilo assassin-turned-lover. Who hovers over him, vibrating with unleashed fury.

“Problem?” Jim asks, innocently. He surveys the wreckage of the warehouse around him, picking lint off his sleeve. “Hmm?”

Sebastian sputters. Honest-to-Christ sputters, unable to form coherent words. He flexes his fingers instead, inching toward Jim. And for once in his life, Jim feels the urge to _step backwards_ away from the irate soldier. “You stupid fucking twat,” Sebastian snarls, and digs his fingers into Jim’s biceps. “What the fucking hell were you thinking?”

Jim’s gaze slides to the rest of their team, and notices half of them with their mouths hanging open. Whether it’s the way Sebastian’s finally lost his impeccable calm, or the way Sebastian’s taking his own life in his hands for yelling at Jim, Jim’s not quite sure. “Sebastian…”

“No,” Sebastian cuts him off, and has the nerve to _shake him like a willful child_. “No, Jim, I don’t give a flying fuck what brilliantly constructed excuse flies out of your mouth, I fucking told you to stay the fuck still, and you deliberately disobeyed a direct order.”

“You forget yourself, ‘Bastian,” Jim says in return, his voice cold. “ _I’m_ the one that gives the orders. Not you. And if I want to participate in the execution of… well, an execution, I’ll do as I damn well please.”

“You think so?”

And really, Jim should know better to listen for such verbal cues as the way Sebastian’s voice drops in pitch to a growl, but he’s too busy being annoyed at the way Sebastian’s talking to him like he’s an… an _underling_. “I know so.”

Jim isn’t ready for Sebastian to shove him to the floor, snatch a gun out of nowhere and turn, shooting each member of the five-man team in the face. “What the fuck?” Jim squawks. “Sebastian, do you know how hard it is to…”

He doesn’t get to finish. Sebastian’s on him, flipping him onto his stomach and mashing his face into the dirty floor. Before he can speak again, Sebastian says, “Don’t open your fucking mouth, or it’ll be worse for you.”

“How dare…”

He grabs Jim’s necktie and wraps it around his fist, using it to choke Jim off. “I said for you to shut your face.”

Jim’s caught between asphyxiation and arousal at the way he’s being manhandled. He can’t speak, but he can wiggle his arms, and swings wildly to get free. Sebastian doesn’t react, he simply kneels on Jim’s back, still choking him, still forcing him down. And when Jim’s air runs low and he can’t fight anymore, Sebastian chuckles. “Done with your tantrum?”

Jim glares at him, but Sebastian ignores it. “Now you listen to me. You’re the boss, and your word goes. But when you get in the middle of an operation and risk your own life in a ridiculous manner, it’s my job as your second-in-command to save your stupid arse from being killed. Then it becomes my pleasure, as your lover, to punish you for scaring the shit out of me. Do you understand?”

“…”

Sebastian sighs, works the knot out of Jim’s tie and removes it from around his neck to allow Jim to breathe. “Jim, this is important,” he says. “I can’t protect you if you won’t let me, and I’m not satisfied to fuck you without knowing that, in some way, you consider us in this together.”

Jim remains silent for a few minutes, thinking. Finally, he says, “You _worry_ about me?”

“Yes, you bloody brilliant moron.”

“Moron!” Jim huffs. “Sebastian…”

“No, you’re a moron,” the assassin replies. Some of the fury sags out of his frame. “And you drive me up the fucking walls with your complete disregard to your own safety. I just murdered an entire team to protect your reputation, and you can’t even be bothered to stay alive!”

“You killed the team to protect me?”

“You really wanted them to know I yelled at you like a naughty child and tossed your arse to the floor?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then this is the result,” Sebastian says, and gestures to the bodies. “They had to go.”

Jim squirms under Sebastian’s hands, asks, “Let me turn over?”

“No,” the other man replies. “Now that I’ve got you where you have to listen, I have a few other things to say.”

“I’m not interested in your… goddamnit!”

Jim flails, shocked by the stinging arousal in his stomach at… at the idea that… “Did you just _swat me_ like a lad?”

Sebastian rubs his palm against the fabric of Jim’s trousers, cupping the smaller man’s arse and clamping down on it. “I did. You’re going to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.”

“That’s not acceptable!”

Sebastian huffs out a laugh and smacks Jim again. “I should put you up on your knees, draw your trousers to your thighs so I can really get at you,” he muses. 

“If you even think to do it, I’ll… I’ll splatter your brains on the floor! How dare you take such liberties with me!”

Sebastian hauls Jim up to his knees, works a hand under him to unlatch Jim’s belt. Jim barely fights him, and it’s all Sebastian can do not to gloat. “Unzip,” he growls, and watches in awe as Jim reaches a hand down to help. 

When he can thread Jim’s belt from out of the loops, and shove the fabric and pants down his legs to his thighs, Sebastian has to stop for a moment to breathe. He’s seen Jim naked a few times, knows how lovely the smaller man is, but like this… this strange submission from the manic, brilliant man makes Sebastian’s mouth water. Impulsively, he leans over the other man to bite one of the perfectly, apple-round cheeks. 

Jim’s gasp is like music. “Please!”

“You like to tell me all the time, how you’re in charge, don’t you? Guess what, love. You aren’t in charge right now. You’re here, beneath my hands, and you’re willing for whatever I want, aren’t you?”

“Damn it, ‘Bastian, I demand…!”

Sebastian doubles Jim’s belt and strikes him, hard enough to shove Jim’s whole body forward, listening with delight at the shrill cry Jim makes. The heat print from the leather blooms immediately upon Jim’s pale flesh, and it’s so gorgeous that he repeats the action without mercy.

He doesn’t miss how hard Jim’s cock is, drooling its liqueur onto the floor. He smacks Jim again, watching the smaller man arch up for the blow. “Tell me,” he grunts, as he rains blows on Jim’s arse. “Tell me.”

“Yours, Sebastian, I’m yours,” Jim pants, spreading his legs further apart. “Please, we’re in it together!”

“And you won’t go running into danger and getting yourself killed, where I can’t follow you?”

“Never had someone who cared before,” Jim says. He looks over his shoulder at Sebastian, and Sebastian startles at how open Jim looks, how young and vulnerable and pretty he is. He flicks Jim’s ass with the strap, and Jim’s eyes well up with unshed tears. “Never had a licking as a child,” he adds, softly.

Sebastian doesn’t drop the strap, wonders briefly if Jim’s playing some sort of psychological game with him. Wonders if he’s using the broken boy routine to get out of the spanking. And then, looking at the red in Jim’s cheeks ( _both on his face and lower_ ), Sebastian decides he doesn’t care if Jim’s playing him or not. He takes the last of his anger out on Jim’s arse, listening to the other man whimper and plead and cry until he’s satisfied.

When Sebastian finally releases Jim’s belt from his clenched fist, he’s amazed at the renewed sense of calm he feels. He reaches his hands under Jim’s arms and lifts him to his feet, pulling Jim into his arms and against his chest. Jim’s still a sniveling mess, but it doesn’t faze Sebastian. “You ever scare me that way again, I’ll take the skin off of you like I did the tiger, do you hear me?”

Jim nods, shivers. He nuzzles his face into Sebastian’s throat and kisses him there. “I understand. I don’t want to leave you behind, ‘Bastian. Wherever I am, I want you with me.”

Sebastian cups a hand under Jim’s flaming buttocks, touches him, listens to the muffled oath and feels the way that Jim rocks forward to escape Sebastian’s fingers. The taller man looks around, notices the pile of wooden shipping crates, and he steers Jim in that direction. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but not a lot of effort to get Jim’s pants the rest of the way off. “Face down, over the boxes,” he says, and watches Jim’s eyes go wide. “Trust me,” he adds, mentally willing the consulting criminal to obey.

Jim stares at him, and Sebastian can see him thinking it out, before he acquiesces to the demand. Jim’s a little float-y from the lashing, but somehow he arranges himself over the crates, tugging his suit jacket in front of him to shield himself from splinters. He doesn’t speak; neither of them do, and once Sebastian has access to Jim’s body, he doesn’t want to waste his time with words anyway. He pushes the smaller man’s thighs apart and eats him alive with his eyes. Jim’s ass is swollen, purpling in some spots from fractured blood vessels. One stripe caught him so that the flesh’s broken, and a trickle of blood pools on the meaty part of Jim’s cheek. Sebastian hits his knees, leans forward, and swipes the blood away with his tongue.

The noise Jim makes astounds; it’s between a squeak of pain and a moan. “God, Sebastian, what…”

But he doesn’t get any further; Sebastian cuts him off with another wide stroke of his tongue across Jim’s ass. Jim’s moaning freely, not the typical repressed grunts of their usual coupling, but _moaning_ , breathy-throaty-lustful sounds that go directly to Sebastian’s prick. He licks ever centimeter of the lush little arse, touching the rough of his tongue to all the hot skin he can sample. And Jim? Jim’s hard enough to cut diamond, beautiful cock throbbing in time with Sebastian’s heartbeat. It makes the assassin work harder, lick deeper into the cleft of the smaller man’s cheeks. Sebastian laps at the skin of Jim’s opening, presses into the musky heat he encounters. Jim begs for ‘more, harder’ and ‘please’ but Sebastian ignores it, sets his own pace to make his lover fall apart. He joins his fingers into the equation, pressing into Jim’s walls and pushing until he finds Jim’s prostate.

It shocks the hell out of him when Jim climaxes at the touch, his cock never touched.

Jim gasps for air, trembling enough so the crates beneath him creak. Sebastian rises, moves in front of Jim and crouches so that they’re eye level. “Never again.”

Jim’s pupils are the size of saucers, breath coming in pants, face flushed and covered in perspiration. He’s never looked more beautiful to Sebastian, especially as he says, “Never again. Promise you, ‘Bastian.”

Sebastian kisses him, nips at his lower lip. “Come on, let’s get you home. You’ll be in bed on your belly for a few days, I wager.”

Jim’s shaky when he stands, clings to Sebastian’s body like a monkey after Sebastian gets his clothes put to rights. “You’ll be there with me?”

Such an odd thing, to hear James Moriarity say things like an ordinary person. So odd, to see in him a small frailty or human emotion. “You’re not likely to ever be rid of me, after this. You realize you’re mine, don’t you?”

Jim nods, curls into Sebastian’s side and Sebastian leads him out of the warehouse and to the car. He isn’t worried about the bodies being discovered; he’ll get a team in there later, but for now, he’s got Jim slumped across him, trying not to put weight on his flaming arse. He smiles, turns over the ignition, and puts the car in gear.

Jim’s yelp is the best thing he’s ever heard.


End file.
